Thankful?
by AgentOfAngst
Summary: Somehow, Wirt can't feel grateful for things after experiencing the trauma of the unknown. That makes Thanksgiving a little harder since he knows he has plenty to be thankful for, but there's so much more that still haunts him that get in the way of gratitude. Belated Thanksgiving story


**So this is a belated Thanksgiving story, but I still wanted to write it. I don't write Over The Garden Wall fics enough and I wanted to add something more to my little library of stories.**

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"Wirt, honey, you're not eating." His mom reached over to push his hair out of his face, looking at him in concern.

"Oh. Oh, sorry. I guess I'm not feeling that good."

"You're sick? On Thanksgiving?" Now she tested for a fever. There was none. Wirt was kind of cold, actually.

"Yeah. I think there was a bug going around at school. I must have caught it from one of my friends." Until recently, Wirt had never mentioned his friends. His mom hadn't outright assumed that Wirt had no friends, knowing her son it was more likely that Wirt hadn't believed that the people who were his friends were actually his friends. Wirt tended to be melodramatic about that kind of thing, overthinking every interaction. But now he brought up his friends frequently, melodramatically of course. Some days, ever since Halloween, he seemed so much happier than he had been before. Other days he seemed so much sadder. This was one of the latter.

"You should go lie down then. I don't want you getting sicker. Rest and I'll check on you in a bit."

"Thanks, mom. I'm sorry for ruining Thanksgiving."

"You haven't ruined anything honey. Your health comes first." Wirt walked slowly through the house, headed towards his room. He put on a tape and fell backward onto his bed, letting a sigh fill the room. He didn't have a bug, but he didn't feel like eating. Thanksgiving was the first major holiday since Halloween. A holiday dedicated to giving thanks. And Wirt's stomach was twisted up in knots because he didn't feel thankful.

He tried to get some rest like his mom had suggested. That was her solution for everything, just about. Go take a nap and you're sure to feel better. He'd been so tired lately, it might do him some good if he could only sleep. So he let his eyes close, let his tape lull him to sleep. The nap didn't last long, it was soon invaded by dark, shifting shadows. In his dream, he was hunted by the beast. The sheets tangled around him as he tossed and turned, creating the illusion of edelwood roots wrapping around him. In his dreams, Greg was consumed by the tree, the beast cackling eerily, and Wirt just had to watch his brother die before he was smothered as well.

He woke up gasping for air, fighting his way off the bed and out of the sheets. He hit the floor with a grand thump. It wasn't long before his room was overtaken by his family.

"Wirt, honey, are you okay?" His mom asked worriedly, reaching a hand out to help him up. Wirt didn't take it, simply moving into a sitting position and hugging his knees to his chest.

"I'm fine, just a bad dream." He was rocking back and forth, trying to banish the beast. 

"You've been having those a lot, Wirt. Maybe you should see someone," his stepdad suggested, not trying to be mean about it but setting Wirt on edge.

"Did you see the beast?" Greg asked knowledgeably.

"Greg, hush, you'll stress your brother out," Greg was shushed by his dad but Wirt just wanted to hug his brother close. He reached for Greg and Greg willingly fell into the hug.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Wirt whispered into his brother's hair. Greg must have heard the almost imperceptible whisper because he hugged just a little bit tighter.

"I love you," Wirt added before his family headed out, leaving Wirt alone on the floor of his bedroom. He leaned back against his bed and closed his eyes, but they didn't stay closed for long. When he realized that the beast was once more flooding his mind he forced his eyes open. Sleep was for the weak anyway.

"How am I supposed to be grateful when everything I have ever cared about was almost stolen from me?" It was all his fault. His brother had nearly died and it was his fault. He was the one whose neuroticism and selfishness had been the reason they had gotten so lost in the woods, to begin with. If it hadn't been for him they wouldn't have been in danger, and he still spent the entire journey blaming Greg for their misfortunes until he'd gotten a wakeup call. He stood from his place on the ground and began to pace his room, muttering to himself.

"Obviously I'm thankful that we survived and I'm thankful for Beatrice and the woodsmen and Lorna and all those who helped get us home, I'm thankful for mom and Greg and even Greg's dad sometimes and I'm thankful for Sara and all my friends… So why do I feel sick? Why can't I celebrate?"

"It was my fault, that's why. I know exactly what kind of a beast I am. I know how easy it is to give up now. I'm not a kid anymore, the weight of the world is on my shoulders… How am I supposed to be thankful for that? How am I supposed to be glad that I survived when every day is harder now? When I'm traumatized by the threat of loss. Every day is a nightmare. That isn't something I can say thanks for." He was angry, he was tired, he was scared, he was sad. He wasn't grateful.

There was a knock on the door, "Wirt I brought you pie but if you don't want pie I want more pie so I can eat it." It was Greg.

"Come in! And you can have the pie."

"Yes! You're the best big brother ever!" Wirt laughed sadly.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah! You named our frog and you gave me your pie and you always give me hugs now."

"But what about in the unknown? I was mean to you. I almost let you die."

"But you saved me! That's what matters more I think. I don't know because I'm not all that smart but I think it matters more what you do now more than what you did. You're the best big brother."

"You are smart, Greg. Smarter than me. I've spent every day since we got back being afraid of what we ran away from. I don't know if the beast can get to us, but I worry that it will. I don't feel like a good person."

"You just think too much. You've always thought too much. Everyone knows you're a good person except for you."

"Maybe one day I'll figure it out too. For now, I'm just glad that we made it out of the unknown. I'm glad you're safe, Greg. You're the best little brother in the world." There were a lot of things Wirt still couldn't be thankful for. But there were some things that he was incredibly grateful for. He wrapped an arm around Greg and held his brother close, never intending to let go.


End file.
